


Magnificent

by JJ1564



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:32:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5404868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/pseuds/JJ1564
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronon Dex is critically injured; John Sheppard realizes how much he loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnificent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelus2hot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelus2hot/gifts).



Ronon Dex fell and John Sheppard stopped breathing. 

For a few seconds time stood still. Ronon’s body disappeared over the edge of the ravine and John stood frozen in shock. 

“Ronon!” Teyla screamed, propelling John into action.

Without much thought, he pointed his gun at the Wraith that had shot Ronon, and emptied his gun into it, finishing it off with a bullet to the brain.

Then he was moving, scrambling down the cliff face on legs made of jelly, and as he knelt by Ronon’s broken body, he was certain that his best friend was dead. Ronon’s left leg was broken; bone was sticking through his thigh, and the leg was twisted at a weird angle. Blood spread out from his body, making it look like Ronon was lying on a red cloak. He was bleeding from his head, his leg, his arm, his shoulder…

“He is still alive,” Teyla gasped, shocked and relieved, “we have to get him back to the ship. Colonel? Hey, John!”

John dragged his gaze from Ronon to blink up at Teyla. “Yeah, yeah…right.”

Along with the two Marines with them, they fashioned a makeshift stretcher from their jackets. Ronon was a big guy, tall and muscular; John was thankful they had less than a mile to carry him. John was on autopilot, moving, talking, doing all the right things, while his mind screamed “Ronon!” over and over again until they got him back, through the gate and home.

There were people everywhere: Beckett was barking out orders to move Ronon gently, in case there was damage to his spine. John wanted to laugh – too late for that, they had carried him as carefully as possible, but after almost a mile of rough terrain, any damage was already done. 

It didn’t take long to transfer Ronon to the infirmary, and to hear the catalog of his injuries. By some miracle Ronon’s back wasn’t broken, but his leg was and he had a dislocated shoulder, a fractured Humerus, a broken wrist, and three broken ribs; but the most worrying thing was the injury his head.

“Just as well he’s got that mop of hair,” Carson surmised, “otherwise he’d be dead.”

John sank into the chair Teyla had brought in for him. He nodded his thanks to her as he stared at Ronon and the people working on him.

He could have died, dammit, he could have died and I’ve never told him. What if he doesn’t wake up? What if he’s brain damaged? I should have told him how I felt - how I feel. But he’s not gone, he’s still here. He’s still here.

Ronon was taken to have surgery on his broken leg and the swelling to his frontal lobe. John hoped they could do it without cutting off the long dreads that were such a part of who Ronon was. John remembered the first time he had seen Ronon. He had been struck by how magnificent – there was no other word to describe him - Ronon had looked. John had been fascinated by him. Ronon was a wild and exotic mix of tall, broad-shouldered muscle under light brown skin. He was dangerous and strong, but his face was almost beautiful, with hazel eyes and full lips, hidden by a mane of matted hair.

John fell in love with him that day. He had never believed in love at first sight, but now he did. It wasn’t just how Ronon looked; it was also his courage and strength. John admired how Ronon had survived as a Runner for seven years, evading and fighting the Wraith. He admired how Ronon had struggled to remain stoic as the tracker was removed from his back, until the pain had overcome him and he had passed out. John had hated breaking the news to Ronon about Sateda, and hated even more seeing Ronon watch the grainy film showing the destruction of his home planet. Ronon had looked devastated, and shocked, and John couldn’t imagine how alone Ronon must have felt at that moment; he had been alone for seven years, a hunted play-thing for the Wraith, and now he was still alone in the company of strangers. 

Over the months, John had never told anyone, least of all Ronon. He had enjoyed getting to know Ronon better, finding a funny, warm and generous man behind his outward reserve. John enjoyed sparring with Ronon, although he always came off worse and his body hated him for it. He knew it was a little weird, but every bruise, every mark inflicted by Ronon made John feel connected to him.

“John?” Elizabeth sat down beside him and gently touched his knee. 

John straightened up, always the soldier. “Hey,” he croaked.

“How are you? Teyla said you had a leg wound but you refused treatment?” 

“It’s just a scratch. They need to concentrate on Ronon,” he replied.

“You should go, wash and change, get your leg tended.” She cast her eyes over his dirty clothes and battered leg.

“They are still working on him, he’s in good hands.” 

“I thought he was dead, his body was so broken,” John whispered, almost to himself.

“He’s strong, he’s a fighter, and he’s going to get through this,” Elizabeth reassured him.

“Yeah,” John agreed, not believing it. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

John rubbed his eyes with shaky fingers. “It all happened so fast. Ronon had gone over to the edge of the cliff, trying to find a way down. No one saw the Wraith; he must have been tracking us and hidden in the tree line. He shot Ronon, it only stunned him, but he fell…” 

“It was just one Wraith?’ Elizabeth asked.

“Yeah, we didn’t see any others, he must’ve been a scout,” John sighed. “I should have been more vigilant, I should -”

“That’s enough, John,” Elizabeth cut in, firm but gentle, “I won’t bother to say it was no one’s fault as I know you take responsibility for your team, but there’s no point in playing the blame game.”

“It’s just so unfair. He’s had such a hard life, those freakin’ bastards chasing him for years, and now he’s found us, and can have a better life, he could…” John ran his hands across his face. Pull yourself together! You’re a professional! He could hear his old commander’s voice berating him and stood up. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I should do what you said and get back to work.”

“There’s no rush for that, John,” she stood up too, “As soon as I hear any news I’ll let you know.”

John nodded his thanks to her, then limped off to his quarters. It was weird that until Elizabeth mentioned it, he had completely forgotten about the wound on his leg. He had gashed it on a jagged rock as he scrambled down to Ronon, and he’d walked through the pain helping to carry Ronon back to the ship. Now it hurt like hell and John was relieved to get to his room, discard his filthy and torn BDU’s and stand under the soothing warmth of the shower until the throbbing in his leg became too bad to ignore. 

He pulled on his boxers and a tee, and inspected the wound; it was mainly superficial grazing to his right leg, but there was a deep gash to his shin that was still oozing. John wrapped a bandage around it, knowing it would probably need treatment, but it could wait. He flopped back on the bed, exhausted but too wired to sleep. He checked the time; they had been operating on Ronon for almost an hour although it seemed longer. 

John knew he was struggling with a new emotion here; he always felt responsible for any injury to a member of his team, but this time he felt lost, untethered, bereft. Ronon had become such a big part of his life that without him he didn’t know what to do. And it was stupid, he told himself, because they’d only known each other a few months and it shouldn’t be affecting him like this. 

Yet no matter what his brain told him, he couldn’t stop feeling distraught. The last time he had felt like this was when a young cadet had died on his watch some years back; he had felt guilt and rage but he had never felt this hopeless.  
John got dressed and went back to the infirmary. Teyla was there, looking as serene as usual, sitting next to an empty bed, but she startled when John approached and he could see from her eyes that her calm facade betrayed her worry.

“Any news?” John asked.

“No, I am sorry, John.” She eyed his leg. “How are you?”

“It’s just a scrape, stings a bit but I’ll live.” John replied, thinking “I’ll live but Ronon might not.”

“You should still get it looked at, once they…once they finish with Ronon.” 

“I will, thanks Mom.” John smirked at her.

Teyla frowned in confusion. Sometimes John forgot that she came from a different culture. 

“I mean, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Oh, that is quite alright,”

They lapsed into silence, and John paced the floor, the pain in his leg grounding him.

After what seemed to be a lifetime, the door opened and Beckett appeared, looking exhausted. “Well, that wasn’t easy.”

John stopped pacing and Teyla stood up; John had to resist the urge to hold her hand. 

“He’s should be fine,” Beckett sighed, “but he’s in a medically-induced coma at the moment to allow the swelling to subside. We won’t really know if the surgery was successful until he wakes up.”

“Thanks, Doc. When can we see him?” John asked, feeling relieved and worried in equal measure.

“You can go in now, but he may not know you’re there.” Beckett replied.

John was up and across the room as fast as his injured leg would allow.

“And Colonel, get that leg looked at once you’ve seen him. You don’t want an infection.” Beckett called after him.

Ronon looked peaceful, despite all the tubes and wires attached to his body, and younger, too. John realized he had no idea how old Ronon was; he had thought they were roughly the same age but now he wasn’t sure. It seemed wrong to see such a strong man laid out so helpless and vulnerable.

Teyla moved around to Ronon’s other side and gently took his hand. “I am pleased you are alive, Ronon Dex.”

John stared down at Ronon’s face and tried to avoid looking at the neat but vivid scar across his forehead. He didn’t know what to say; there was so much he needed to tell Ronon. 

“You should go to get your leg treated,” Teyla suggested, “I will stay with him until you return.”

“Thanks,” John gave her a brief smile. He didn’t want to leave Ronon, not for a minute, but he knew he would face the wrath of Elizabeth and Beckett if he failed to follow their orders. 

As soon as his leg had been cleaned, sutured and bandaged, he limped back to Ronon. Teyla stood up as he arrived and John noticed for the first time how tired she looked. 

“Thanks for staying with him,” John greeted her, “you should go and get some rest now.”

Teyla looked down at Ronon and then up at John. “Yes, and you should keep talking to him. I have heard that it is good to keep speaking to comatose patients.” 

“I’ll do that,” John responded. She gazed at him and for a moment John thought she knew how he felt, that perhaps Teyla could read his mind. Intuition was one of her many strengths. 

Teyla gave him a small smile and a nod before leaving the room. Alone with Ronon, John fought the urge to lay himself across Ronon’s prone body to hold him and cry out his guilt, anger and misery against Ronon’s battered body.

“Hey there, big guy,” he whispered, sitting down in the chair vacated by Teyla. “I nailed the Wraith that shot you, it was alone. I’m sorry I didn’t see him.”

Ronon’s face was still serene and his breathing was steady. John looked over his long body, taking in the bandages around his ribs, across his shoulder, around his wrist and his arm, and the metal frame holding his shattered leg in position. 

“Lucky you’re a tough guy,” John gave a shaky laugh, “and Doc said your hair saved your life. Teyla was here keeping you company; she’s gone to have a rest. We had to carry your heavy ass all the way back to the Jumper.”

John sighed and ran his hand over his weary face; it was odd having such a one-sided conversation. John looked round and there was no one near the bay they were occupying - he could say whatever he liked to his friend.

“Dammit, Ronon, I thought you were dead,” John hissed, surprised at how angry he sounded. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. I guess I’ve got used to having you around, and who’d kick my ass if you weren’t here?”

John heard footsteps and Beckett came in. 

“I thought you’d come straight here.” Beckett smiled at him. “I need to check his reflexes.”

John moved away to allow Beckett more room. John watched as Beckett peered at the monitor Ronon was wired up to, before gently lifting Ronon’s eyelids, shining a small torch into each one.

“How’s he doing?” John asked.

“He’s stable, which is incredible given all his injuries. His eyes are still not reacting to light, but its early days.” Beckett replied.

“How long will he be like this?” John’s anxiety grew at the thought of Ronon being in a coma for any length of time.

“It’s hard to tell, the swelling has reduced but it could be any time from a few hours to a few days before he regains consciousness.”

“Days?” John repeated, aghast.

“Don’t worry too much. Look at it as a chance for his body to rest and heal. You know if he was awake he’d already be trying to get up.”

“True,” John admitted, “I just hate seeing him like this.”

“Talk to him, keep him company. When he regains consciousness it will be good if he sees a familiar face and hears a friendly voice.” Beckett paused and John recognized his expression.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Well, it’s hard to say at this point if Ronon sustained any significant brain damage. Some people are fine, others have memory loss or motor skill loss.” Beckett explained, but John already knew all this and the knowledge wasn’t comforting. “Once the swelling goes down he should wake up, but when he does he may be confused and scared.”

“I’ll stay right here with him.” John informed him, as if anything could make him leave.

“You can take it in turns with…” Beckett began.

“I’ll stay with him.” John snapped. “It’s my fault he’s here.”

“Okay, but you need to get up and walk around every hour to give your leg a stretch.”

John agreed, knowing that Beckett would be back every hour anyway to check on Ronon, and would make sure John was following his orders.

John started to speak to Ronon once they were alone again, telling him a more positive version of Beckett’s diagnosis and promising to stay with him. John ran out of things to say, knowing he was delaying telling Ronon how he really felt.

“I’m such a fucking coward,” John murmured, “I should have told you weeks ago how I feel about you. And now you’re stuck in here, because of me, and I’d trade places with you in an instant if I could. You’re so strong and so brave, but I know the weeks of rehabilitation are gonna be hard. I’m going to help you as much as I can, as much as you let me.” 

John sighed and looked at Ronon’s uninjured arm lying on the white bed sheet. On impulse he stroked the smooth skin, feeling the hard muscle beneath. Ronon’s hand twitched slightly, so he repeated it and John’s eyes widened as Ronon’s hand moved again.

He was about to jump to his feet and call for Beckett when he realized he would have to say he had been stroking Ronon – and that certainly wasn’t regulation behavior between a CO and an injured comrade. He stayed in his seat and smiled to himself, imagining how surprised everyone would be if he declared his love for Ronon and they got together. 

“Ronon, can you hear me?” he whispered, tentatively. There was no response, so he repeated his question a little louder. “Okay, I can see you’re playing hard to get. So I’m going to talk and you’re going to have to listen. If you want me to shut the hell up, you just say so, okay?”

Ronon was completely still, no change at all to his expression, but his hand still twitched whenever John stroked his arm or held his hand. John started to tell Ronon how much he loved him, how stupid he had been to wait until he’d almost lost him to let him know.

“When you wake up, I’m going to tell you all this all over again. I’m not keeping it quiet any more. If you don’t feel the same then…” John’s monologue was interrupted by Beckett’s arrival, as the doctor coughed to alert John to his presence.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Beckett said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“It’s fine Doc, just talking about anything and everything.” John blushed, hoping Beckett hadn’t heard as much John feared he had.

“Of course,” Beckett nodded, “and it’s about time.”

“What?” John was shocked; he had been so careful keeping it a secret.

“I’m afraid you haven’t been as subtle as you hoped, Colonel.”

“What?” John repeated, feeling stupid.

“Teyla picked up on it ages ago; Elizabeth too.” Beckett grinned.

“Oh no!” John muttered, adding, “I haven’t been trailing around like a love-sick teenager, have I?” Beckett chuckled and John felt the color flooding his face deepen. “Well, I don’t appreciate you all discussing my private life behind my back.” 

“Don’t get yourself all worked up. It’s only us three that know.” Beckett replied, still smirking. “And we know how to keep a confidence. McKay on the other hand…”

“Oh God,” John groaned.

“So you’re not denying it?” Beckett’s left eyebrow raised.

“Hell no, I nearly lost him, that’s not going to happen again.” John sighed. “Except I don’t know how he feels, if he feels anything at all for me.”

“He does, I’m pretty sure.”

“How do you know?” John demanded.

“You two do that thing where you look at him when he’s not looking at you, and vice versa. The man’s been giving you puppy eyes for weeks now.”

“How the hell did you all know before we did?” John was exasperated.

“Ah, love is blind Colonel, love is blind.” Beckett smiled, “Now, let’s have a look at him.”

“His hand moves,” John informed him, “when I…well, when I touch him.”

“Excellent!” Beckett beamed. “That’s encouraging; of course it could just be an automatic response, but it could also indicate that he’s coming back.” Beckett examined Ronon’s eyes again and hummed. “No change there, but I’ll come back in an hour or so. Keep talking to him, and let me know if you notice anything else, however small.”

John paced the room for a few minutes, stretching his wounded leg as instructed by Beckett. Teyla came in a few minutes later, just as John was sitting back down, with a sandwich and a cup of coffee for him. She didn’t hang around, so he ate the sandwich in silence, his eyes never leaving Ronon’s face.

“So, I guess the game’s up.” John broke the silence. “It seems we’ve been pretty obvious to everyone except each other. God, I hope you feel the same, buddy. If you don’t that’s fine, but I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

John kept on talking for a few more hours, only stopping when Beckett came in to check Ronon and smirk at John. There had been a few small changes in Ronon’s condition; his legs had shifted slightly and he had muttered some unintelligible words. 

John told Ronon about his childhood and his family, things he had never told anyone. He grasped Ronon’s hand in his and smiled when it twitched slightly, almost like Ronon was trying to squeeze back. Most of all, John kept telling Ronon how he felt about him - how much he loved him and how he hadn’t realized how lonely he had been until Ronon had come into his life. 

John had been fighting his growing exhaustion, and rested his head on the edge of the bed next to Ronon, just for a moment. 

He was woken by a large hand patting his head. “Sheppard,” a hoarse voice croaked out.

“Ronon!” John jerked awake and winced as his injured leg throbbed. “Are you okay? Do you want anything? Are you in pain?”

Ronon smiled, looking tired but not confused. He shook his head, “I’m okay.”

“I’ll get Beckett…”

“Wait,” Ronon raised his hand to grab John’s. “Thank you…I saw you and…and knew I was safe.”

John swallowed the lump that had seized his throat, “You’re welcome.” 

Beckett hurried into the room. John figured the machines Ronon was hooked up to had registered that he was awake.  
“Ronon Dex, you’re the luckiest man alive!” Beckett grinned. “It’s good to see you back with us.”

Beckett bustled about, checking Ronon’s pulse, temperature, and blood pressure, declaring that he would live to fight another day. He told Ronon the extent of his injuries and that he would need to be in the infirmary for a few more days, at least. John thought Ronon would grumble about this, but he accepted it, his eyes heavy with fatigue. John stayed with him when he fell asleep, and was still there when he woke up again.

Ronon smiled at John. “So, you think I’m magnificent?” he teased.

“You heard me?” John asked, both surprised and embarrassed.

“Yeah, you talk a lot!” Ronon grumbled, but he was still smiling.

“Sorry,” John smiled back.

“Don’t be sorry,” Ronon reached out for John’s hand. “As I fell I thought of you; that I should have told you.”

“Ronon, fuck, I never knew…” John fought back the tears of relief and joy that threatened to overwhelm him.

“You know now,” Ronon squeezed his hand. “Got a second chance.” 

“Then I won’t waste any more time. I think I’m falling for you, Ronon.” John declared wth a smile, “And I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

“Looks like I fell for you, too,” Ronon replied; it took John a moment to catch on as Ronon gave John a look that cleary said “you’re an idiot”.

“That’s really not funny,” John couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Joke or fall off a cliff?” Ronon’s eyebrow rose.

“Both.” John deadpanned. 

Ronon stared at him and John’s heart almost stopped beating. Ronon’s eyes were shining as he spoke, “I never expected to love again after Melena died; but since being here, I’ve found a new home, a place where I belong and it's with you, John.”

 

John had never felt happier. The last few weeks had been exhausting as Ronon was not a patient man and expected to heal faster than was physically possible, but at last he was getting better. John had looked forward to when they could progress from kissing, as sweet as kissing had been. Ronon’s leg was now in a splint so he could walk with a cane, and his other injuries were bandaged but healing well.

“So, your place or mine?” John joked as he accompanied Ronon back from the gym. Ronon frowned, puzzled. “I mean, would you like to join me for a drink in my quarters, or shall I come to yours?”

“Oh, right,” Ronon smiled, but he looked a little anxious, “um, yours is closer.”

They walked in charged silence for the few minutes it took to get to John’s quarters. Once inside John poured them both a drink, as Ronon stood awkwardly by the door, hovering like he wasn’t sure if he was staying. John was bemused; he had never seen Ronon looking so…shy.

“You okay?” John asked. Ronon nodded and limped further into the room. “Drink?”

Ronon nodded again and took the glass John offered. He downed it in one and gasped as the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat, making him cough. John patted his back and took the glass from his hand, putting it next to his own on the table. Ronon grabbed John’s arm and pulled him in for a kiss. 

John loved kissing Ronon; he loved the way his beard tickled and rubbed his face. He loved the way Ronon kissed - urgent, and a little desperate, like he was making up for lost time.

They pulled apart to look at each other and John reached up to tangle his fingers in Ronon’s dreads, pulling him back down for another kiss, feeling Ronon’s hips rocking against his own and they were both hard. John broke away to guide Ronon over to the bed, their hands entwined.

“You need to rest your leg,” he said as he helped Ronon sit on the edge of the bed. “Let me take care of you.”

Ronon nodded but looked wary again.

“Ronon, have you been with a man before?” John asked, guessing the reason for Ronon’s uncharacteristic shyness.

“No, never, but…” Ronon shrugged, a clear sign of ‘help me’ in the gesture. “…I want…I’m just…”

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” John coaxed and Ronon lay back, letting John lift his legs onto the bed and tug down his sweats. John scooted up onto the bed and positioned himself between Ronon’s long legs, careful to avoid the injured one. He looked at Ronon, laying back with his dreads making a halo around his head, and remembered seeing Ronon spread out on the blanket of his own blood. John blinked back the image and focused on Ronon, alive and wanting, beneath him.

Ronon gasped as John freed his cock, hips lifting into the gentle stroke. It was as impressive as the rest of Ronon’s body - thick, long, beautiful.

“Magnificent!” John grinned and Ronon gave a shaky laugh.

“Did you expect anything less?” Ronon retorted with a wink.

“Oh no, it’s perfect,” John bent his head down to lick the head of Ronon’s cock and he gasped again, strong hands moving up to run through John’s hair.

“John…yes…” Ronon muttered as John peppered his cock with licks and kisses. Ronon’s cock lay hard and eager on his taut abs, and John knew it wouldn’t take much to make him come. John’s own cock was hard too, trapped inside his sweats. John was torn between wanting to make this last and needing to see Ronon come. 

“More!” Ronon commanded and John grinned as he moved lower to take Ronon’s cock into his mouth. Ronon had made his mind up for him - hard and fast it was; then he would ride Ronon’s impressive cock so he could watch Ronon’s beautiful face when they both came.

“Fuck, yes, yes,” Ronon groaned. John had given a few blow jobs before, but Ronon’s cock was bigger than any other he’d taken. John loved how it filled his mouth to the point of choking; imagined how well it would fill his ass, too.  
It didn’t take long before Ronon was coming, gripping John’s head as he roared out his release. John struggled to swallow it all; Ronon’s cock almost gagging him, and when he pulled off, some had dribbled down his chin. Ronon growled, actually fucking growled, as he leaned forward, caught his come on his fingers and fed them to John, who smiled as he licked Ronon’s strong fingers clean. John pushed Ronon back down and leaned over his prone body to kiss him tenderly and let Ronon taste himself in John’s mouth.

Ronon moved his hands up to push John’s sweats and boxers down. John broke the kiss to sit back and let his neglected cock spring free.

“Magnificent!” Ronon pronounced with a smile. 

“Did you expect anything less?” John teased.

“Oh no, it’s perfect,” Ronon replied.

Ronon stroked and caressed until John had to stop him.

“Stop,” he groaned and Ronon looked perplexed. “Want to come with your cock inside me, wanna ride you.”

Ronon gave him a huge smile and pulled John’s head down to kiss him again. “I love you, John, and your fucking talented mouth.”

“I love you too, and I’m gonna show you how much,” John smirked as he moved back and ran his hand up and down Ronon’s cock. He gave it a few more strokes as Ronon groaned and grabbed his wrist, guiding his movements. When Ronon released his wrist, he licked his own fingers and reached behind to open his hole. John had prepped earlier, but he loved how Ronon was watching him with hungry eyes.

He slid two in, and made a show of groaning and writhing for Ronon, who encouraged him with a string of obscenities. Ronon’s cock bobbed between them and John couldn’t wait any longer. He raised himself up and positioned Ronon’s cock right by his hole, sinking down with a drawn out sigh. Ronon grabbed John’s hips, aiding him. Ronon watched avidly as John rose up and down, groaning at the sensation of Ronon inside him, filling him. Ronon was quiet now, breathing heavily and grunting each time John lowered himself down.

John was so close, he could feel Ronon’s cock sliding over his prostate but he needed more. “Ronon!” he moaned, “need to…”

Ronon moved to grasp John’s cock with his big hand and it only took a few strokes before John was pumping his load over Ronon’s stomach, moaning his name.

John was fully impaled on Ronon’s cock, so he stayed where he was, moving his hips in slow, hypnotic circles. It was all Ronon needed to come, roaring out John’s name as he rode out his release. John wanted to collapse onto Ronon, but he was aware through the haze in his mind that Ronon’s body was still mending. He moved off Ronon and collapsed on the bed next to him instead. They both lay on their backs, panting quietly in the aftermath. John stared at the ceiling and swore he could see stars shining down on them. 

“I want to fuck you outside, under the stars,” John said as he rolled onto his side to look at Ronon.

“I’d like that,” Ronon smirked at him. 

“I want to ride you in a Jumper, with you sitting at the console and me on your lap.” John didn’t know where all this was coming from, but he couldn’t stop now. “I want to tease your body, suck and bite and see how much you can take before you come. I want to explore every inch of you.”

“Fucking hell, John, you gotta stop! I can’t take any more,” Ronon pleaded and John took pity on him when he saw Ronon’s spent cock twitching valiantly.

“Okay, but just to warn you, I plan on making up all the time we’ve lost.” John snuggled against Ronon’s side and Ronon slid his long arm around John’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“And we have the rest of our lives to do it in,” Ronon nuzzled into John’s hair.

“Really?” John asked, sounding like a kid on Christmas morning. He could hardly believe this was happening. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, where else are you going to find someone so…” Ronon paused and they both said it together, laughing, “Magnificent!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to my amazing beta, wings128, for all her support and hard work in making this story so much better.
> 
> And thanks to angelus2hot for such great prompts.


End file.
